Drabbles: The Product of Writer's Block
by rainydayB
Summary: Titled as such, because my longer stories are always on hiatus. Contains little stories on various moments that hopefully will make you go "aww", or perhaps shed a tear or two. T for now.


The Last Plan

I have always wanted to fly, to experience that gravity defying, that light-as-a-feather sensation, like any ordinary birds of the bottoms of the evolution hierarchy. Like the Kookaburras who woke me from my slumber each morning, or the owls who cursed me from sleep each night, the lowly animals who owned wings. I obviously realized my limitations; with no wings, I didn't expect to fly. Skydiving or mountain gliding would have been fine. I only wanted to experience that adrenaline-flowing sensation.

But every time I bought the issue up, my family objected vehemently.

"You can't go sky-diving! It's too dangerous!" Renee would exclaim, clutching a hand to her chest. I tried not to roll my eyes at the hypocrisy of it all.

"No, absolutely not," Charlie had deadpanned, not even bothering to hear the rest of my spluttered objections.

"But…but Bella, what would happen if you just fall out of the wing thingy? You could get really hurt or… or die!" Alice stammered, her blue eyes shining with distress.

Yet one person had always been supportive of my plans. He was not exactly family, but he might as well have been. Jake had always approved of my "insane" plans, and sometimes we shared them. When I was five and he seven, we both wanted to take a dive from the tallest diving board from the local pool, but because of our age, we were forbidden. Cunningly, Jake coaxed his little brother into distracting the lifeguard, and we ran, as fast as our stubby legs would carry us, all the way to the top of the diving tower. By the time the lifeguard had noticed, it was too late. We were already on the diving board, giggling and wobbling, ready to dive. I got into huge trouble for that – Jake's alcoholic dad didn't care – but it was so worth it.

Sometimes our plans bought us a little more problems than angry red marks from a belly flop. The summer I turned sixteen, Jake got a motorbike and a few box wines and took me to "the cave" on Inspection Point. After a night of wild drinking, my estrogen and his testosterone took over and our bodies mingled in a pool of sweat. My parents, after a sleepless night of searching, found us at the teenage hormone shrine the next day, hangover and indecent. My mum bought me an endless supply of pregnancy tests the next month, but we had nothing to worry about.

While I moaned over my loss of freedom, Jake remained silent, offering a supporting arm as I cried over the injustice of having parents who suffer from Over Protective Parents Syndrome. Then I stopped, remembering Billy, Jake's father, who didn't care about anything unless it involved his daily booze. Of course I apologized profusely after. Jake said it was fine, but I could see the pain in his eyes that no amount of love from me can heal.

Yet not matter what, Jake and I always did these plans together, whether they were stupid or not. But I didn't understand why he would attempt flying without me. Well, I wasn't going to miss out just because he didn't want me with him this time.

A particular piercing crow from a kookaburra bought me to the present. I glanced around at the familiar surrounding, seeing the parasitic green vegetation sprawl all over the large rocks, the willowy trees and their branches swinging in sync to the wind, just like they always did. A flood of tear blinded me as I glanced at "the cave", which was barely visible behind the curtain of willowy tree branches. I shook my head furiously, fighting back the memories. I needed to focus.

I stormed over to the Inspection Cliff, each step bringing me closer to my plans. Smiling grimly, I paused at the edge, feeling the rocks crumbling beneath my toes. The surroundings were beautiful: the perfect blue sky, the appearing endless stretch of darkness between the cliff and the ground. It would be like diving into a dream. Already I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. "This is what Jake must have felt," I thought satisfyingly. I took one more step…

And then I was flying.

**AN**: I thought it would be a good idea to start a series of drabbles, considering I could never finish the longer ones. This is written poorly, however, I'm too tired to actually make it better. Oh wells, hope you enjoy.

In response to the theme: Flying and

the sentence "and then I was flying".


End file.
